


Red Lips

by wibblyR



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Genderfluid!Yuuri, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, bottom viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 06:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9371195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblyR/pseuds/wibblyR
Summary: It's not easy borrowing clothes from your sister without her knowledge... even less so when your boyfriend gets horny when he sees you wearing them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> late christmas present for Tania !! I wanted to write it anyway but... too much pressure... this fandom jeez...  
> I don't usually do (or like) Established Relationship but i Cannot Decide when they started... to date... to kiss... but this takes place between episode 5 and 6!  
> my twitter is @wibbly_R

Yuuri carries the nondescript bag to his room as inconspicuously as he can given that a cold sweat damps his face.

Once the door is closed behind him, he pours the contents of the opaque bang onto his rug like a feast out of a cornucopia. It almost dazzles him, the treasure he’s hoarded this time. He’d never dared to borrow this much at once.

A black dress spills royally on top of the pile. Yuuri holds it up by its shoulders, the flowing skirt waving. It’s sleeveless and the gaps are wide; it will reveal Yuuri’s sides. He bites his lip and lowers it back to the floor. He undresses quickly, hesitating and then removing his underwear.

When he puts on the dress, the waist clings a bit too tightly but the fabric is soft, almost silky, and Yuuri twirls and twirls to feel the air and the skirt swishing against his legs. Dizzy, he stops and smiles to himself while looking at the floor. He picks the remainder of his loot and goes to sit at his desk.

He opens his laptop and wipes the blank screen to see himself more cleanly. He stares at his dark reflection and removes his glasses and combs his hair back with his hands to get a clear view of his face, which has slimmed but is still quite round. He makes his eyes focus; if not for too long, it won’t hurt and he won’t have to squint. He picks up the eyeliner and carefully applies it, but his eyelids flutter despite himself and it’s still not quite as perfect as when Phichit does it. Next is the mascara; this one’s brush is different than what he used to pick up in Mari’s room. Maybe she decided to change brands, but Yuuri can’t quite tell why. He can soon feel the weird wetness on his eyelashes, now darker and longer. He blinks slowly, his cheeks reddening with shy happiness: he can already see the transformation in his reflection. Next is the lipstick.

The tube jolts right out of Yuuri’s fingers when the the door to his room bursts open.

“Mari I swear this isn’t- Oh, Viktor. It’s you.”

He knows Viktor knows, but that doesn’t stop him from blushing and not quite meeting his eyes. Viktor’s surprise lasts a second before he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe with fond eyes.

“One of those days, huh”, he says gently.

Yuuri nods.

 “A girl day?”

He thinks a moment before replying. Is he a girl today?

“No, just a feminine day. Thank you, Viktor.”

“Want to go practice like this?”

The fluster comes back full force.

“No no no, this is Mari’s stuff, I can’t risk her seeing me.”

“A shame. You should really go outside like this once, Yuuri. You look so cute.”

Yuuri fidgets with his skirt.

“I’m not ready yet. But…” He looks up. “If you’re with me, maybe one day.”

Viktor winks as he strolls into Yuuri’s bedroom, closing the door behind him. “I’ll hold your hand.” He picks up the lipstick. “This was next, right? Let me do it for you. Look over here.”

Viktor kneels beside Yuuri, who flushes but turns down his face towards him, half-closing his eyes so he’s not so aware of their closeness when Viktor gently takes his chin between his fingers and applies the dark red lipstick. When he’s finished, Viktor cards his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, arranging the graceful fall of its bangs. The focused silence between them soothes Yuuri until, “Yuuri, look at me.”

Dutifully, he gazes fully at Viktor, whose expression is transfigured with something close to wonder. Before he can say anything, Viktor presses their lips together, a hand taking one of Yuuri’s, that was until now gripping the edge of his chair.

“You’re so beautiful.” Viktor says it so softly that it can be nothing but sincere. Yuuri cocks his head, heart aching. He can’t help but reach for Viktor’s mouth and smear the transposed red with his thumb. He doesn’t trust his voice right now. Viktor has no effort to make to render him speechless.

“Let’s practice!” Viktor exclaims suddenly, standing up and pulling Yuuri up with him.

“Viktor!” Yuuri still manages to muster indignation. “I said-“

“Seduction. Let’s practice your seduction.” Viktor grins, sly and innocent at once. Like it’s obvious.

Yuuri almost rolls his eyes. When Viktor gets like this…

He lets go of his hand and takes a few steps back. He shoots a smile and a square look at Viktor before starting to spin, and spin, and spin. The mid-calf length skirt flies higher and higher, like the crown of petals of a flower being blown flat by the wind.

He stops, swaying. By the hand covering Viktor’s mouth and his wide eyes, Yuuri guesses he saw.

“You’re… You don’t…”

Yuuri can never get enough of the gratification he feels when he makes Viktor flustered. But he always has to one-up him in the surprises department: he closes the distance between them and kneels again at Yuuri’s feet.

Viktor bends and lifts the skirt over his head. When Yuuri first feels his breath against his now rising cock, he freezes and closes his eyes. Viktor caresses the point where Yuuri’s inner thigh connects to his pelvis, his other hand closing over the base of his cock, brushing against his balls, and then he finally puts his mouth on Yuuri. Yuuri sighs, his lungs deflating and his hear swelling (much like his lower half) at the same time. Viktor expertly moves the ring of his mouth up and down Yuuri’s hard cock, just close of deep-throating it each time, and his tongue draws movements independently across the shaft, and his fingers fondle the fragile skin of his testicles. Like everytime Viktor sucks him, Yuuri is overwhelmed. He wants to touch his head, his fine hair, but the skirt is in the way.

“Viktor… Viktor…!”

Viktor comes out and looks up, his lips and chin shiningly wet.

“I want to touch you”, murmurs Yuuri.

Viktor’s expression exchanges lust for fondness in an instant and he stands up, throwing his arms around Yuuri’s neck.

“Oh, Yuuri, I don’t know what I want more: to fuck you or to be fucked by you…”, he whines against Yuuri’s cheek, nuzzling it. Yuuri exhales as he scratches at the short hair on the nape of Viktor’s neck.

This is a false statement; by saying that, Viktor knows exactly what flip he’s switching. Yuuri pushes him towards his bed. His tone lets no doubt as to what he chooses when he says, “I’ll be the one to decide.”

Viktor sits down on the covers. He watches Yuuri with a momentarily stunned look and starts to undress. Yuuri imitates him.

“No! Keep the dress on.” Viktor’s shirt is off, showing the flush on his pale chest. “Ready yourself and I’ll ready myself. Ok?”

By the time Yuuri has put a condom on, smearing even more the dark red stains Viktor put on him, Viktor is already lying down naked, legs spread open and lube bottle in his hands. Yuuri settles himself at his feet, fanning his skirt around himself, and pushes Viktor’s knees up, locking his hands around his ankles.

“Go on”, he says.

Viktor breathes heavily, and what happens next, Yuuri knows it by heart: he works himself open, fucks himself on his fingers until he’s panting and begging for Yuuri, who drives him mad by dotting his knees with kisses but otherwise not touching him.

Viktor arches his back, pushing his head into the pillow, almost writhing with want. “Yuuri, please… I can’t come without you… Yuuri…”

Yuuri can’t hide how driven wild he is anymore, and he takes Viktor’s fingers out himself before pushing into his gaping hole, bunching up his skirt in one hand to hold it up. Viktor moans with joy, kicking Yuuri’s lower back lightly to draw him in, in, all the way in. The dress drapes itself back down over the connection of their bodies.

As Yuuri thrusts shallowly, he bends to kiss up Viktor’s chest, tattooing him with flat red mouths. Viktor hums but loses patience and pulls him to kiss him hungrily. Yuuri indulges him, returns it messily so that the lipstick smears all over their lips. Viktor’s hands clings to Yuuri’s shoulders, sliding under the wide sleeve-holes to grab at his shoulderblades.

But Yuuri straightens up, and Viktor makes a needy sound, hands reaching for him. Yuuri has other plans in mind; he settles himself steadily on his knees and grabs Viktor’s ass with both hands, and finally quickens his pace. He rams into Viktor again and again, Viktor’s legs limp at his sides, body upturned for him to plow into, and Viktor can only cry out into the back of his hand. The fabric of the dress grazes Viktor’s stiff cock just so with every thrust, to the point of oversensitivity. Viktor comes with a great bodily shiver, and Yuuri allows himself to be pulled onto and embraced by him, his face to be kissed, his hair to be stroked, as he hurries to finish too.

Yuuri pulls out and lies down next to Viktor, knowing how clingy he gets after sex. Indeed, Viktor immediately latches onto him.

“Augh, you’re so sweaty!” Yuuri complains.

“And you’re incredibly not.” Viktor cuddles him tighter and rubs his cheek on top of his head.

“We still have to shower though… Wait.” Yuuri sits up, horrified, looking down at himself. “I can’t give this dress back to my sister, even after washing it. We absolutely ruined it.”

“You keep it and I’ll buy another one for Mari.”

“I don’t know where she got it! I can’t even tell her what happened and apologize, because she doesn’t know I borrowed it in the first place.”

“Then let’s burn it and she’ll think it’s lost.”

“Viktor!”

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri admits defeat. He takes off the dress but doesn’t lie back down.

“I’m still mad. After you shower, come to the onsen for round two.”

He knows Viktor is exhausted.

But he doesn’t know that as soon as he’s gone, Viktor giddily covers his grinning face with his hands.


End file.
